


did you know your smile makes my day?

by HillsideTroubles



Category: Original Work
Genre: Child named Tobias, Flower Language, Grumpy Ophelia, Magic, My small boy is so stupid, Ophelia is v old, Original Universe, Rare Motherly Ophelia, Short & Sweet, Tobias is around 12, Tobias likes oats, Witchcraft, Witches, Woman named Ophelia, but I love him, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 12:50:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillsideTroubles/pseuds/HillsideTroubles
Summary: To say that Ophelia doesn't like kids would be an understatement. Then Tobias comes along.





	did you know your smile makes my day?

The steady swing of the pendulum kept time as the witch hummed to herself, her lips pursed together as she stirred. From her hunched position in the kitchen, the daily household chores began. The watering can drifted from the flourishing rosemary to the thyme, giving each a nurturing sprinkle of water, while the scattered books reorganized themselves by alphabetical order -just as Ophelia favored. Sparks ignited a flame that licked at the kettle with wild abandon, as the heavy drapes peeled back to allow the hungry beams of light to penetrate the darkness of the rather squashed home. 

Just as the tall hand of the clock reached the intricately carved six, a rapid succession of knocks sounded from the door. With a disgruntled sigh, Ophelia nodded in the door’s direction. “Come in.”

A short, freckled boy nearly tumbled through the archway, his hands surrounding a medium sized clay pot donned with a protective cloak to protect it from the bitter cold outside. Stepping inside, he howled as his knee smashed into the corner of the tea table. 

The witch winced at the sudden noise, but squinted at the boy’s disheveled appearance. Splotches of dirt fell from his withering pants into the crevices the wooden floor boards -yet another thing she would have to tend to. 

“You are  _ late _ ,” she panned, pushing the remaining batter into the pot.

The boy trudged even more dirt into the home as he shambled to the kitchen. “ ‘m sorry, mum wanted me to run a quick errand ‘n I thought I would have more time…” 

Ophelia’s lips tightened, glancing at the poorly crafted pot in his arms. Tobias had never been a good enough liar to fool her; but she applauded his efforts. She exhaled sharply. “What’s in the pot Tobias?”

In an instant, the boy’s eyes lit up, placing it upon the kitchen counter before delicately peeling back the twill cover. A single flower stood meekly at attention, its bulbous head hardly supported by the withering stem below. Fragile pearlescent petals were plagued with a sickly brown edge, slowly eating away at its radiance. Tobias held it proudly. 

“I dug her from my mum’s garden this morning, isn’t she pretty?” The boy stared at the concoction, stomach rumbling.

Ophelia gave the poor plant a glance. “Why?” She stirred the pot with vigor, sprinkling cinnamon into the mixture.

“Because,” he said. “She would have died out in the cold. And I don’t know how to take care of this-”

“Carnation.”

“Yes, carnation! That’s what mother thought too.” 

“And?”

The boy’s brow furrowed, his focus on his moribund flower. “I didn’t know how long it’d take to dig up all the roots, and I didn’t want to hurt her. But I figured if anyone knew how to save her, it’d be you Ophelia.” The witch stopped, a warmth blossoming in her chest. Her lips pulled, yet her face remained stale. She extinguished the flames of the stove, drawing the wailing kettle to pour steaming water into two tall mugs. 

“Tea and porridge is ready, eat while it is still hot.” Ophelia snapped her fingers and the broom leapt to life, gathering the fallen dirt into the dust pan. 

And as they ate in silence, she looked at the child wolfing down his oats. “Know that I will always have room for you my child.” The warmth in her breast grew and enveloped her, painting her face into a small, yet content smile.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who do not know, a white carnation represents pure love and good luck  
Also who would win? An old, emotionally constipated witch, or one watery boi


End file.
